


all because of you

by scepticallyopenminded



Series: 30 Day Lyrics Challenge - 2017 [29]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Homesickness, Hopeful Ending, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 21:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13198596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scepticallyopenminded/pseuds/scepticallyopenminded
Summary: And Louis knows that Niall’s going to leave in a few days; he has to be in New York by Friday, he’s filming a talk show there and then doing some radio interviews and he’s got a performance in LA on Saturday and then it’s off to Melbourne for a few days to do some promo shit. And Louis knows that when Niall leaves, he’s going to take a piece of his heart with him like he always does and it’s going to hurt.But for now, in this house that’s honestly more than Louis needs right now in his life, Niall’s here to fill up the emptiness with his wide smile and loud laugh and brilliant personality. This is what his houses, his spaces, his life is always missing; Niall there.





	all because of you

**Author's Note:**

> I am an absolute bitch for Nouis. Like love me some Nouis. So fucking much. I still to this day can't really tell you why I love them so much but damn they work so well together and I am in love with them together so.
> 
> From The Good Left Undone by Rise Against:
> 
> "All because of you/I believe in angels/Not the kind with wings/No, not the kind with halos/The kind that bring you home/When home becomes a strange place"

Louis sighs, shutting the door behind him and dropping his bags onto the floor. Both actions make a loud noise which emanates through the house, a reminder of a place too big for one person. He loves this house, he really does, has since he first got a look at it; modern exterior, some great architecture, fully furnished with plenty of aesthetically-pleasing yet comfortable furniture. It had cost more than Louis had ever imagined having in his life, but he likes it. The style fits him.

But the fact that he likes it doesn’t make it less lonely. Sure, his entire family will be here in two days and then the space will be worth it, but _now_ , it’s a big, empty house.

It’s been a long time since Louis’ been in London, actually. He’s been touring festivals and spending nearly all his time _not_ performing in LA, writing and recording and hanging out.

His place there, rented per week for a frankly absurd price tag, is huge and lonely too, though. He nearly always has people over, but it’s the times, particularly nights and early mornings when he’s alone in the big, empty space, that sit with him. He sometimes wonders if he should just get a small flat since he’s renting anyway and it’d be less too big, too much space, but then all the lads come over to watch a match or pregame, or his HQ will be there for a meeting, and he’ll be thankful the place is huge and that he can find refuge as needed in one of the many unused bedrooms or in the refurbished attic that has become his hideaway.

The real problem, and Louis knows this is it, is that home is a relative word in his life. Even Doncaster, where he considered home for years even after he left, has stopped feeling quite right. He loves it there, he always will, and he’ll always consider it his hometown, but every time he goes there it’s a short visit. It’s hard and weird seeing all his friends move on without him, and he doesn’t particularly like it.

But this house - the entirety of London, even - feels off too. LA isn’t any better, and it just makes Louis sad. Maybe that’s just growing up.

He doesn’t have the ability to _think_ about it right now, anyway. It’s near three a.m., he’s had a long flight and he’s _exhausted_. Making sure the door’s locked behind him, Louis throws his keys onto the kitchen counter, peeks in his fridge to see what’s been stocked, grabs a water bottle, and stumbles upstairs and into his bedroom.

He flips the lights on and - he’s willing to admit - he screams.

The lump in his bed pops up, and _Niall’s_ glaring at him with sleepy eyes.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Louis breathes out, fully awake _now_ , “What the _fuck_ are you doing here?”

“Wan’d ta surprise ya,” Niall mumbles, squinting at the alarm clock on Louis’ side table, “Were suppos’d ta be home hours ago.”

“Caught a late flight,” Louis informs him, walking over to the bed and setting his water bottle on the table, “You wanted to surprise me?”

“Ugh,” Niall continues, falling back into the bed and burrowing down, “Talk in the mornin’. Come to bed.”

Louis chuckles, shakes his head, but does as requested. He changes quickly, stripping down and throwing on his pajamas before flipping off the light and joining Niall in his bed. His heart has mostly stopped racing by this point, and he settles down as Niall pulls him close, feeling the exhaustion creep back now that he’s not freaking out.

Niall’s snoring a moment later, and Louis lets it lull him into a soft sleep.

*

“So you wanted to surprise me?” Louis asks the next morning. He’s sitting on the counter, eating cereal and watching as Niall fries up some eggs and sausage for himself. Louis’ still in his pajamas, while Niall, always prone to sleeping naked, had thrown on a pair of Louis’ shorts before they’d made their way downstairs.

Niall shrugs, pulling down a plate from the cupboard.

“Knew you were gonna be here this week, I was too, wanted ta see ya since it’s been a long while and our schedules don’ overlap of’en.”

“Huh,” Louis replies, setting down his empty bowl, “I’m glad you’re here. I miss you when you aren’t around.”

Niall smiles, and Louis is always, always struck by how beautiful he really is. He shoves his way between Louis’ legs and gives him a peck on the lips.

“Love you too.”

Louis stays on the counter, watches as Niall plates up his food and sits down at the bar. They don’t say anything to each other for a moment, content to sit in silence while Niall stuffs his face, and Louis takes a moment to glance around the kitchen, where it leads out to the living room, the huge windows letting in midday light.

He still loves this house, much the same as he had at three a.m. wandering in exhausted when it seemed too big, too empty. Now, though it’s still just as big with just as many rooms that aren’t used regularly enough to be necessary, it seems okay. Worth it, when he looks at Niall scrolling on his phone and poking at his breakfast while sat on a barstool. When Louis sees _that_ , while London is the exact same as it was when he got in the previous night, it feels sturdier.

And Louis knows that Niall’s going to leave in a few days; he has to be in New York by Friday, he’s filming a talk show there and then doing some radio interviews and he’s got a performance in LA on Saturday and then it’s off to Melbourne for a few days to do some promo shit. And Louis knows that when Niall leaves, he’s going to take a piece of his heart with him like he always does and it’s going to hurt.

But for now, in this house that’s honestly more than Louis needs right now in his life, Niall’s here to fill up the emptiness with his wide smile and loud laugh and brilliant personality. This is what his houses, his spaces, his life is always missing; Niall there.

Niall laughs at something on his phone and for once in his life, Louis doesn’t feel the need to shove in, ask what’s funny. He doesn’t need to be in on the joke right now, feeling content enough to watch the joy in Niall’s expression and bathe in the sunshine that Niall is, at least for now.

When things start to feel not quite right, that’s when Niall comes along and aligns Louis’ life again. Someday, Louis hopes, he’ll get Niall everyday, all the time, always around to make Louis’ world better.

**Author's Note:**

> lemme know if I missed any tags.
> 
> find me at [asocialfoxpaw](http://asocialfoxpaw.tumblr.com)
> 
> don't post my shit on goodreads or like sites thanks!


End file.
